Wearing a black puffy coat, black gloves and a black flat cap, Ogden resident Jim Ure tapped his credit card against a Utah Transit Authority ticket machine.
“Just have to re-learn this every time,” he said cheerfully.
At 86, Ure paid the half-price senior rate of $5.50 round trip, which he called a “pretty good deal.”
He and I met at Ogden Central Station to catch a train to Salt Lake Central. He had lunch plans with a friend. I wanted to see firsthand how Utah’s largest public transit system stacked up to driving. People in the wide-open West might consider cars a necessity, but they’re becoming unaffordable, too.
On the platform, an automated voice said to expect delays up to an hour. A freight train derailment that morning set the commuter train off its schedule.
Luckily, the train was only about seven minutes late. FrontRunner trains are normally reliable, at least less than five minutes late, almost 90% of the time, according to the Utah Transit Authority’s 2025 budget document.
For Ure, the train is a lot less stressful than driving.
“I just like to sit and enjoy the ride,” he said once we had settled into blue-cushioned seats. “I don't want to fiddle with my phone, really, although I love TikTok,” he added with a laugh.
There’s a cost-saving aspect, too. Ure’s small SUV gets about 20 to 25 miles per gallon on the highway, so a train ride to and from Ogden and Salt Lake City saves him 3 to 4 gallons of gas. That alone would cost more than his train ticket, not to mention parking and maintenance costs.
For a driving commute between a random house in Taylorsville and downtown Salt Lake, 24 miles round-trip, one could spend more than a couple of hundred dollars a month for parking, gas and maintenance. A monthly UTA pass is $85.
On paper, that’s a steal, but the 30-minute drive would become an hour on a bus and then the TRAX light rail.
Ure and I spent an hour on the FrontRunner, which is up to 25 minutes slower than driving, depending on traffic. If there’s an accident on Interstate 15, the train might be faster.
At Salt Lake Central, Ure found his friend in the parking lot, and we said goodbye. I walked around the block to meet Fares Director Monica Howe at the Utah Transit Authority offices. Inside, a model FrontRunner train sat in the lobby. When the clock hit noon, it turned on and started chugging around a fountain.
Howe drove to work the day we met, but she took FrontRunner the day before.
“I like to get things done on the train. I like to contribute to the air quality. So I — sometimes it's really pretty if you catch the sunset or, you know, the sun coming up,” she said.
It’s been more than a decade since UTA made any big changes to ticket prices, but she said those conversations will pick up in the new year.
A one-way trip on the commuter train from Ogden to Provo is $9.70, and the cost decreases if you don’t go as far. A ticket for light rail and most buses is $2.50. Those prices are a fraction of what transit actually costs to run. Fares cover less than 10% of the actual cost of a trip.
And a lot of riders, including me, have a transit pass through their school or job.
“If you exclude special services and paratransit, we have about half of our fare revenue coming from partner contracts,” Howe said.
The bulk of the Utah Transit Authority’s operational budget — nearly 80% in 2025 — comes from sales tax in the six counties where it operates. Funds for big projects to expand service typically come from the federal government.
Discounted rates are available based on age, income or disability. Anyone who rides often enough could save with a monthly pass or a FarePay Card.
To meet up with Mike Christensen, founder and executive director of the nonprofit Utah Rail Passengers Association, I took a bus east to his coworking office. The six-block ride took five minutes, plus a short walk on each end and a few minutes of waiting for the bus. Back from lunch, Christensen slipped out of hiking boots and into worn-out Birkenstock sandals.
Two stints in Germany turned Christensen into a train nerd. Later, as a graduate student in city planning at the University of Utah, he didn’t want to pay to park on campus. And he got a transit card through the university.
“After having thought for a whole week about it, I woke up one day and was like, ‘I think I'm going to go take my car to a dealership today and sell it,’” he said.
That was nine years ago, and he hasn’t looked back. But transit is less convenient in some parts of Utah than others, he said. Dead-end streets in the suburbs mean someone might live close to a bus stop as the crow flies, but still have a hard time getting there.
“If you're someone who has always just been driving a car, you're going to think that making transit move faster is the most important thing, but it's not,” he said. “The most important thing is actually frequency, followed very closely by the span of service that’s available.”
Christensen’s e-bike is his daily driver. He takes transit about five days a month, and his fares are covered by Utah Transit Authority’s Adopt-a-Stop program. He keeps an eye on a bus stop and picks up trash in exchange for 10 free days a month.
Christensen and I spent way too long talking about trains. As I sat on the bus back to Salt Lake Central, I selfishly hoped FrontRunner would still be delayed so I would make it.
No such luck. And it wasn’t rush hour, so the next train north was 55 minutes away. I took a seat on a bench and waited, killing the time working and looking at shoes online.
Macy Lipkin is a Report for America corps member who reports for KUER in northern Utah.
